When you are wearing a skirt or dress, after you use the restroom, make sure that your skirt/dress is not tucked up into your undergarment. I managed to walk halfway through a Target looking like that. Luckily, I tend to wear biker shorts underneath my dresses so at least it wasn't my underwear that wast showing.

This very thing happened to me once....at my job at a bank...with a loan officer following me to the lobby. Thankfully one of the ladies at the safe deposit desk saw me and stopped me before I actually got into the lobby.

Part of me is wondering why the LO didn't say something.

On a related note, for the love of all that is good in this world, please let someone know if they're trailing TP on their shoes. Really. It's horribly embarassing to trail it around for several hours with nobody saying a word.

-Recently lost a whole lot of weight and are excited to be able to wear clothes that show it off-Decide to go out bar hopping with your friends and wear a denim miniskirt with a fairly modest top and low heels

Make sure said low heels are in good shape. Otherwise, you will break the strap on the heels, rendering them uwearable and be forced to go out to your car and change into the 5 inch stilettos you have there (because you can't drive a stick shift wearing shoes like that and the last time you wore those shoes you took them off to drive home and never took them out of the car). Then every male person in a 50 mile radius will start hitting on you and you will get annoyed, since this was supposed to be a night to just hang out with friends.

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Some people lift weights. I lift measures. It's a far more esoteric workout. - (Quoted from a personal friend)

When pulling a pan out of a 450ºF oven, don't forget that the ceiling of the oven is also 450 degrees. Your skin won't hurt but it will hiss like a snake and your hand will be left with a nasty-looking mess.

When printing carefully selected pages from a 5386 page document, do not transpose digits when entering the print page data.

Otherwise you will watch in horror as your computer cheerfully tries to spool umpteen bazillion pages to the printer and you will frantically stab at any button you can find in an effort to stave off the impending paper apocalypse.

Why no, I have no personal experience of this. Why do you ask?

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"I think her scattergun was only loaded with commas and full-stops, although some of them cuddled together for warmth and produced little baby colons and semi-colons." ~ Margo

When printing carefully selected pages from a 5386 page document, do not transpose digits when entering the print page data.

Otherwise you will watch in horror as your computer cheerfully tries to spool umpteen bazillion pages to the printer and you will frantically stab at any button you can find in an effort to stave off the impending paper apocalypse.

When printing carefully selected pages from a 5386 page document, do not transpose digits when entering the print page data.

Otherwise you will watch in horror as your computer cheerfully tries to spool umpteen bazillion pages to the printer and you will frantically stab at any button you can find in an effort to stave off the impending paper apocalypse.

Why no, I have no personal experience of this. Why do you ask?

Somehow in outlook, I apparently asked it to print my inbox, rather than a specific email. Good thing I noticed the rapid page count it generated in time to yank the paper supply (from a shared office printer) which then bought me time to figure out how to cancel the print, and to get the cancel to go all the way through. I still wound up with half a dozen pages of inbox.

When printing carefully selected pages from a 5386 page document, do not transpose digits when entering the print page data.

Otherwise you will watch in horror as your computer cheerfully tries to spool umpteen bazillion pages to the printer and you will frantically stab at any button you can find in an effort to stave off the impending paper apocalypse.

Why no, I have no personal experience of this. Why do you ask?

Somehow in outlook, I apparently asked it to print my inbox, rather than a specific email. Good thing I noticed the rapid page count it generated in time to yank the paper supply (from a shared office printer) which then bought me time to figure out how to cancel the print, and to get the cancel to go all the way through. I still wound up with half a dozen pages of inbox.

The receipt printer at a retail establishment that I used to work at had this funny quirk, in which, if the printer became disconnected from the computer (which happened a lot due to the cord tangles we had going on behind the counter) and you kept telling it to print receipts, when you finally reconnected it, it would spew blank receipt paper to the tune of 6" for every 1" of receipt it had been told to print. Once other people had been operating it for awhile and complaining about the receipts not printing, and I reconnected it and watched while it dispensed half a roll of receipt paper. Removing the paper entirely didn't help - it would just complain about the lack of paper until you filled it again, and then continue wasting paper. Sometimes restarting the computer helped, but not always, and we didn't always have time to do a restart anyway. We could look up receipts later for people, and most of our stuff wasn't returnable, so it wasn't a big deal, but it was annoying.

I would like to nominate my recent decision to cook marinated kebabs on my airbake pizza tray. It is, basically, a large round cookie sheet perforated with many small holes, so that pizza crust gets super crispy. I usually cover it with foil when I'm just using it for general purposes, but I failed to do so this time. My house still smells faintly of the smoke (no fire, but lots of smoke!) produced from the drippings off the kebabs landing on the heating elements.

My mother was a decent cook but pretty much ignorant of herbs and spices. An Italian friend told Mom her spaghetti sauce recipe and Mom wrote it down. For some reason, Mom heard the 'three cloves' but didn't hear the garlic. So when I was growing up, spaghetti in our house always co tai Ed three whole cloves but no garlic.

It was still pretty good.

My mother's recipe had one clove (or the equivalent in ground clove) - it was pretty good - but it was a West Texas version, with minimal resemblance to real Italian cooking. Tomato paste, garlic powder, oregano, a little clove, meatballs, and then you used the pressure cooker to get the meatballs cooked.

I ate it for years, I eat it when we visit and she serves it, but I do not fix it at home in my own kitchen. Neither does DD - I switched to cooking my MIL's equally but different non-traditional recipe because that is what VorGuy wants to eat. It's good - but any resemblance to real Italian cooking is also only in passing. It's a 1960s magazine version that his mother served for decades, until the ready-made canned & jarred stuff had the quality improve and (quite likely) until FIL took over doing most of the cooking (health issues as they got closer to 80 than 70).

Fortunately I remembered mid-grab that was A Bad Idea and the cut was the size of a paper cut. Unfortunately it hurt like a paper cut.

I have a scar from this...actually, from factory work doing this. If you do incredibly dull piecework in a factory, where you have to run a knife across the inside of something 3 gazillion million times a day, you will inevitably eventually zonk out. Everyone who worked there had a 'fell asleep holding a knife' injury, at one time or another--and that "CATCH IT" instinct is really hard to quash when you're half asleep and trying not to have your supervisor notice you're asleep. And x acto knives tend to fall point downward.

Not sure if I've shared this one here before, but if you're examining a bladed weapon, be careful of where you choose to stand. DumbFriend was looking at a new hand and a half sword that a mutual friend had just brought home and sharpened. He held it up to look closer at the blade. While standing under a ceiling fan that was turned on.

Luckily it was just the flat that caught him across the face, but DF had a giant welt the rest of the night and everyone teased him about it for years.

Speaking of knife cuts... If you've just cut your hand to the point of needing stitches, it's probably not best to drive yourself to the Urgent Care with your hand bound in paper towels.

I still ask myself, "What was I thinking?"

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My cousin's memoir of love and loneliness while raising a child with multiple disabilities will be out on Amazon soon! Know the Night, by Maria Mutch, has been called "full of hope, light, and companionship for surviving the small hours of the night."